


No Time Like the Present

by JesWithOneEss



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Baby, F/M, Pregnancy, Sex, Smut, The Burrow, romione, weasley - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 06:49:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JesWithOneEss/pseuds/JesWithOneEss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ron and Hermione want to make a baby, there is no time like the present. And on Ron's birthday he gets a present from Hermione he least expects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Time Like the Present

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the RHr smutfest on Tumblr back in February for Ron’s birthday, which was March 1st! My prompt for the fest was to have Ron and Hermione do the deed somewhere semi-public so I chose the pantry, and then added my own spin on things because I can’t help but get a plot up in there. Enjoy!
> 
> I do not own Potter and pals.

“Who does she think she is,” Hermione growled to herself, slamming a jar of pickled peppers back onto the shelf of the Weasley’s pantry and glaring at it, “doing _that_ to me, of all things, in front of _everyone_?” She let out an exasperated groan and couched down to inspect the lower shelf for the homemade relish Ron had sent her in for. Of course, she knew he only did so in order to save everyone from witnessing Hermione’s ill-hidden contempt towards his mother.

Oh, she loved Mrs. Weasley, with all her heart, as if she were her own mother, in fact. But lately, ever since Harry and Ginny announced they were having a second child the woman had been relentless, and completely obvious, about her desire for a grandchild from her youngest son. And Hermione, being a tad bit competitive all on her own, was already feeling the pressure to conceive since James was born a few years ago. Ron and Hermione were eager to start a family of their own. Ron had his own - what he thought was a secret - reason besides placating his mother (his lingering, yet small, childish insecurity to keep up with Harry), but she knew they both wanted a child for the right reasons: to create someone who shared not only their looks and traits, but their overflowing love for one another. It was the only thing missing from their perfectly abnormal and fantastic lives together; a baby.

But Hermione was not yet with child, and when Mrs. Weasley tried to perform a spell over Hermione’s belly without her consent to find out, the ‘tsk’ that emitted from the older woman’s mouth was a clear sign of disappointment and, what Hermione perceived as, assumed failure. Ron, being the astute Auror and loving person that he was, recognized the expression of derision on his wife’s face and immediately boasted about his mother’s relish, asking Hermione to be a ‘good wife’ and fetch it for him, thus making his mum happy while at the same time diverting Hermione’s anger from her mother-in-law’s audacity onto him for acting like a sexist pig. However, as she turned to lash out at him she saw his eyebrow raise and a quirk in his mouth that told her he knew what he was doing. She trusted him, albeit reluctantly since she had been longing to let off some of the stress that had been building around this whole baby-making business.

But it was her husband’s birthday, certainly not the time or place for such lectures. It was because of her love for Ron Weasley that she sucked in her pre-registered speech about women’s liberties and rights to their own bodies, as well as certain males daring to demean them. Instead she had only glared at Ron, nonverbally saying he had better fix this, before stalking away silently from the picnic table outside, followed by fading snickering and murmurs from the other guests including Mr. Weasley, Bill, George, Harry and Ginny, with little James running around the table in circles. As soon as she entered the warm kitchen that smelled of cake and ham she took a deep breath and already felt better, although embarrassed at how closely she had become to making a scene.

That was until she entered the small pantry and spotted the jar of pickled peppers. Ordinarily this wouldn’t set a person off, but this jar was also labeled as a concoction for fertility. “ _FERTILE PEPPERS:_ _One bite of this spicy veggie will provide a haven in the ovaries of a woman whose desire to conceive is strong_.” She had read the label and guffawed, unable to believe that Mrs. Weasley would stoop to these tactics, especially without her approval. The jar was half-empty.

Hermione’s had eaten several pickled peppers at dinner, just an hour ago.

Mrs. Weasley words came back to her: “Hermione, how do you like those peppers, dear? I can send some with you to take home. I hear they’re especially good for… ovulation.” Hermione had been confused and embarrassed at the time; however, already used to her hints about a grandchild, Hermione merely simmered. But soon after the comment that brought everyone’s attention to Hermione’s uterus, Mrs. Weasley attempted to have the younger woman’s abdomen examined for signs of life and/or ovulation; and that was the last straw.

“And now _this_? How-”

“Talking to yourself again, love?”

Hermione hastily stood and turned at the sound of Ron’s voice behind her. He was leaning a shoulder against the frame of the pantry door, smirking in on Hermione with one long jean-clad leg casually bent over the other at the ankles. His large hands were tucked under each bicep, arms crossed over his broad chest, dark blue jumper stretching over hard muscles underneath. His ginger-topped head was angled to the side, hair covering one eye, and his lazy grin was widening full lips across his face.

_Look at him, so impish and adorable. Gods, I hate him and love him. I cannot ruin his birthday with the fact that his mother, for all intents and purposes, has just drugged me into having a baby._

But the impulsive and hot-tempered nature that derived from living with Ron for so many years made her grab the jar of pickled peppers off the shelf without thinking any further, and thrust it into Ron’s chest, causing him to wipe that smirk off his face.

“Look at that! Read it!” she all but screeched at him, ignoring the voice inside her head that said this was a bad idea, that her yelling about his mother would definitely wreck his birthday. But she couldn’t see herself continuing on with the day with this information over her head without bringing it to light, especially to Ron. He had a right to know.

“Hermione, I said relish, not peppers,” Ron said without reading the label, and instead eyeing her with mock concern. “Are you barking? Do you need a lie down?”

She made a combination of frustrated noises, hand gestures and sighs before yanking the jar from his hands and turning it for him to read along with her. “Look here: One bite, it says, Ron! “…a haven in the ovaries”, for goodness sake! Don’t you see? She poisoned me!”

Ron’s sudden chuckle made Hermione snatch the jar away from him and hold it against her chest as if it were precious evidence. “Poison? Be serious, Hermione! Mum wouldn’t poison you.” He shook his head at her and laughed again at her absurd accusation.

“Alright, fine, perhaps not as lethal as poison. But she intentionally made me ingest a magical _potion_ without my knowledge or my consent.”

“Aren’t those the same thing?”

She smacked his arm, which made him snicker even more. “This is serious, Ron! Your mother-”

“-is very sorry for what happened at dinner,” Ron said, sobering enough to place a hand on her elbow, making her stop. “I pulled her aside just now and asked her not to bring up the ‘O’ word again in public, that it makes you uncomfortable. And also t try not to wave her wand at your, er, you know. She felt really bad.”

“Oh,” Hermione murmured, looking down. “I didn’t want her to feel bad, exactly.”

“Bollocks, and you know it,” Ron said with another laugh.

“You are completely aggravating,” Hermione relented; she did want Mrs. Weasley to realize that her constant remarks about her vacant womb were bothering her, and she was grateful to Ron for finally saying something about it, but she was worried this might create unwanted friction between them.

“I’m also completely right,” Ron replied before bending forward and landing a kiss on her nose. “No worries, love. I fixed everything.”

“Well, it doesn’t happen often, so I’ll let you have this one,” she cheeked back, and his delighted smile gave her no choice but to smile back. “What are we going to do about this?” She sighed, and gestured to the jar of leftover pickled peppers in her hand, as if it were a ticking bomb.

He shrugged. “Well… did it work? I mean, what she did wasn’t nice, not asking your permission and all that, but, well- what if, you know, you’re… you know?”

He looked so hopeful that she felt it catching and stared down at the jar, seeing it in a different light. “Maybe…”

“Can you do the spell mum was gonna do before-?” Hermione stopped and peered up at Ron through her lashes. “Oh, right, of course you can,” he said quickly and waved a hand as if the very thought of her not knowing a spell was preposterous.

“It’s fairly simple, really. I’ve been doing it for years any time I thought I might have been…you know, ovulating or-”

“Pregnant? You never told me you were doing that. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to see the disappointment in your face if I wasn’t. But now, with this, there may be a chance. But that doesn’t mean a baby will be conceived-“

“But it says-“

“I know what it says, Ron, but nothing is a hundred percent. We need to be prepared that in the event something like this doesn’t result in a baby then…”

Ron shook his head, all grins and chuckles gone. “No, we can’t think like that. This _will_ work. We’ve waited long enough for a baby, Hermione.” The inflection in his voice made her soften and she allowed herself to become hopeful for once in so many months. “Do the spell, and if you’re all set to go then we’ll have loads of sex and- and then we’ll see. It’ll work, trust me.”

She wanted to tell him he didn’t know that for sure, but she knew Ron. When he set his mind to something, even if it wasn’t based on logic, she couldn’t sway him. Besides, there _was_ a certain amount of rationale to his argument. What could it hurt to try? The magical peppers were already in her system. All she had to do was wave her wand and see if there was the possibility to conceive.

She placed the jar back on the shelf then pulled her wand from the pocket in her skirt as Ron moved to close the door. They were immediately thrust into dimness, the only light being the gas lamp overhead. Looking up at Ron she saw him lick his lips as he took a deep breath, holding it, waiting. She flicked her wand hand over her belly and whispered the incantation, then also held her breath. They both stared as her belly glowed from white, to yellow, to pink.

Hermione froze, unable to believe her eyes.

“What does that mean?” Ron asked anxiously. “Are we ready to go? Can we go shag now?”

Hermione would have laughed if she weren’t so stunned. “Do you want your birthday present now or later?” A small smile tugged at her mouth as she slowly looked up into Ron’s confused and impatient expression.

“What the bloody hell are you on about? A present?” His voice raised an octave as he gestured wildly to her abdomen, asking with his hands as well. “Can we make a baby now or not?”

A bubble of laughter erupted from Hermione’s mouth which she quickly clamped a hand over to stifle the noise, but she couldn’t help the giddiness from pouring through her eyes as she spoke. “Ron! I’m already pregnant!”

Dumbfounded, Ron just stared at her, looking even more confused than ever. “But that spell, you were only checking to see-”

“To see if I can have a baby! When its glow is either pink or blue that means… Ron, that means there already _is_ a baby!”

“You mean you’re- we’re… we’re gonna have a baby?” Ron whispered his question, staring down at her glowing belly, as if waiting for it to expand in front of his eyes.

“Yes! We did it! On our _own_ , I might add.”

“Blimey, Hermione!” She yelped as Ron suddenly swept her up in his strong arms and swung her around in the tight space, the heels of her boots knocking boxes and cans to the floor. He set her down and began raining kisses onto her face and neck, his hands following where his lips led.

“Are you happy?” she asked stupidly, and giggled when he rolled his eyes at her.

“Am I happy?” Ron replied with a laugh and then backed her up against a shelf, jars rattling against one another, his tall body towering over hers. She felt his hardness pressed on her thigh and immediately spread her legs in order to feel it closer to its anticipated destination. “Does that answer your question?”

“Who knew pregnancy would get you so... turned on?”

“I dunno, just thinking that what we do for fun can actually make another human… it’s bloody hot.”

“Only you would turn the miracle of life into an innuendo,” she said breathlessly; he was running his hands up and down her sides as they talked in low tones, the ones they usually reserved for the bedroom, or the kitchen, or wherever they ended up shagging all over their flat. “We’ll need to… to move to a… bigger place. A house…” He had slid his hands under the waist of her skirt, pulling her blouse loose and was stroking her back; the crackle of heat from his fingers on her skin made her breath shallow and her heart quicken.

“Yeah, a bigger place, we can do that,” he murmured before dragging his tongue along her jaw and to her ear, hot breath making her feel as if tens of thousands of needles were pricking her all at once, making her nerves and hair stand on end.

“And I’ll need to… take time off… from work. And, oh… I’m going to be as big as a… house… Mmmm…” She had found the hem of his jumper and was scratching her nails down his chest, hard underneath soft skin, the planes of his body she knew so well. “Oh god, you feel good,” she moaned when he lurched his waist forward, driving his erection between her already wobbling legs. She whimpered, and the sound only made Ron hungry for more.

“Hermione, I don’t care how big you get. You’re having my baby… Best fucking birthday present ever.” The words rumbled from his chest and into her ear, and hearing him say it out loud made it more real, and more… sexy. Of all the research she had done about pregnancy this reaction was one she hadn’t anticipated. Her head was light, and she felt younger, more alive, and more loved than any other time in her life.

“I love you so much,’ she panted after Ron had succeeded in his travels along her neck with his tongue and lips, kissing and licking. At her words he stopped and leaned his forehead against hers, staring into her eyes.

“I love you, Hermione,” he said, and then she felt his fingers lightly tickle her belly that was no longer glowing. “And I love this baby. So much already.”

“Me too… You do realize it’s a girl.”

“That’s right; The pink, yeah?”

Hermione smiled and snorted out a laugh as tears ran down her cheeks. She sniffed, nodding her head. “Yeah, the pink.”

“A girl… Brilliant.” He broke into a smile so radiant and wonderful; it was as if he lit up the entire pantry with happiness. Hermione basked in it, adding her own happiness to his and she swore the sun was no competition for that moment.

Then he was grabbing her face in his hands and kissing her with fiery cheerfulness, downright giddy in fact. They laughed as they took turns attacking the other’s mouths and whispering how brilliant this was. Meanwhile, Ron had already lifted Hermione up with his hands under her thighs. She shrieked, clasping her hands around his neck before he spun them around so her back was flat against the closed door. She relaxed a bit and, not caring much for location or who might hear them, started pulling his jumper over his head, and he helped her out of her top and bra within seconds. Their torsos slammed together as they resumed their fervent kissing, hands exploring wherever skin was exposed: her thighs, his nipples, the sides of her breasts, his forearms; but it wasn’t enough.

Not having the added pressure of making a baby made them more carefree- they were too consumed with the tremendous news and one another’s heightened arousals to pay attention to minor things such as being in his parents’ house while his family was just outside, here to celebrate his birthday.

With a frenzied urgency Hermione hastily unbuckled Ron’s pants, and they let out breathy laughs into each other’s mouths as his jeans and underpants hit the floor with a thud. There wasn’t room, or time, for Hermione to step out of her knickers so Ron opted to rip them off of her with one hand instead. “You can repair them later,” he answered defensively at her admonished stare.

“Come here, you brute,” she groaned, and pulled his face to hers, bruising their lips with another deep kiss, moaning and biting his bottom lip when he suddenly thrust up and into her, penetrating her core in one smooth and practiced move. “There’s the baby maker,” she sighed with satisfaction.

Ron guffawed and then pinched her arse playfully. “You’re funny when you’re pregnant. I’m gonna like this Hermione.”

“I’m always funny,” she said with a pout.

He stopped and looked at her apologetically. “I know you are, love. I just meant-”

“Oh shut it, Ron, I was kidding,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “I dare say I hope this child has my sense of humor.” She gasped softly as he slid out of her, then all the way back in again. This time more with more authority, making her shudder.

“Humor is my thing. As long as she has your brains and my humor, she’ll rule the world.”

“Either way… she’ll be perfect,” Hermione said between gasps as he started a more fast-paced rhythm. “Because she’s… ours… Damn, you feel… so good, Ron.” She ran her hands over the tightened muscles of his chest and abdomen, tracing the lines of indentation until she could thread her fingers through the coarse ginger hairs where they were joined beneath her skirt that he had unceremoniously flipped over in his haste to be inside her. He shook at the tickling sensation and thrust harder and faster. Hums of satisfaction came from Hermione as her nails scraped over to his hips where she took hold of his protruding bones, pulling him closer.

Ron kept her up with her bum in one large hand, and the other on the back of her neck; He held her in his arms, locked in place, as he drove into her with a wild abandon that made Hermione worry the door might break off its hinges. Every breath was used to stay conscious; they were no longer able to speak, but gasp, and growl, and grunt their way through their frantic lovemaking. They were both slick with sweat from being confined in such tight quarters in the semi-darkness. The sounds of their skin slapping and of the wetness between their legs filled up every centimeter of the pantry.

It wasn’t long until Hermione could tell Ron was close. She had been trying to hold back, waiting for him so they could finish together. But her overly sensitive and hormonal body would have none of it. She felt the rush of adrenaline and pressure force its way from the top of her head straight down to her core where Ron was relentless in adding his throbbing friction to the onslaught, rattling her to the point where she clung to him as her orgasm poured out of her in one long, pumping thread of ecstasy. She felt him fill her up as she was riding high, and a choked sob came out. He hugged her closer, squeezing her body to his, even after he was spent.

They stayed that way as she was cried on his shoulder, overwhelmed by so many physical and emotional upheavals hitting her at once. And when her hand found Ron’s face she found it wet as well, which only made her hug him that much tighter.


End file.
